Slowly Tedros looked back at her . . .
“Sounds like quite a deal,” said a voice.
They spun to the window.
Rafal glared at Sophie, Excalibur to Agatha’s throat.
But his expression wasn’t nearly as surprised as Agatha’s.
Hort woke up when he heard teachers’ muffled shouts upstairs. He couldn’t make out more than a few words: something about Aric attacked? An intruder on the loose?
His first thought was to check if Sophie was safe. Then he remembered she was in the old cretin’s tower, far away from the castle, and he’d been so good at not thinking about her and now wasn’t the time to regress.
He glanced at Chaddick and Nicholas asleep in their beds, handsome, beloved Everboys who girls once drooled over.
Hort smirked. Now the girls all wanted him.
He saw the way they goggled at his new muscles and flirted shamelessly in the hall, sizing him up like a lamb shank. He could have anyone at this school, Ever or Never.
And yet, as he leaned against the window, staring at the School Master’s spire over the Blue Forest, Hort found himself wondering what it would be like to live there with Sophie. The two of them, ruling all of Evil together . . . A hot, burning feeling edged through his body as he imagined her in his arms for a perfect kiss—
He flushed pink, smearing away sweat.
No.
She hurts you.
She only hurts you.
You don’t love her anymore.
Tearing his eyes away from the Forest, he clenched his teeth, sank to his pillow—and bolted back up.
A small pinpoint of gold glowed from the School Master’s window.
Not just gold. Buff, brassy gold, halfway between flaxen and amber.
He knew this because he knew everything about Camelot’s prince, down to the precise hue of his glow.
What he didn’t know is why that prince’s glow was in the School Master’s tower.
Tedros grabbed Sophie by the waist and held his glowing finger to her throat. “Hurt Agatha and I kill your queen,” he warned the young School Master, only to see Rafal press Excalibur deeper into Agatha’s neck.
“Teddy . . . not a good deal . . . ,” Sophie wheezed, straining for breath.
But the two barechested boys locked eyes across the chamber, gripping their hostages tighter.
Feeling the sword’s cold blade, Agatha shivered with confusion. Here she was, counting on her prince and best friend to rescue her from a lethal villain. Instead, she’d arrived to find Tedros’ shirt ripped open and Sophie asking to be his princess.
“I said let Agatha go,” Tedros growled at Rafal, his torso red with heat.
“Oh-ho, now you’re my prince?” said Agatha, against the School Master’s cold, pale chest. “The prince who a second ago seemed rather open to testing out a new princess?”
“Stop it, Agatha,” Tedros snapped, digging his lit fingertip into Sophie’s throat. “Rafal, release her or—”
“Or what?” Rafal was strangely calm, staring at Sophie. “You’ll kill a girl you’ve come all this way to save? A girl pledging her heart to you?”
There was no anger or vengeance in his face, only a cool evenness that left Sophie unnerved. “Rafal, I’m sorry,” she said. “But I have to make the right choice this time. The right choice for me.”
“Like betraying your best friend?” Agatha lambasted her, before turning on Tedros. “Or telling your princess to her face how much you love her and the moment she’s out of sight, pretending she doesn’t exist?”
“I was just hearing her out,” Tedros fired back. “Sophie said she’d come with us if I gave her a second chance. With everything on the line, don’t you think that’s a worthy request?”
“A second chance?” Agatha scoffed. “After all we’ve been through, after everything we said to each other in Hester’s room, now you want to try out another girl?”
“You’re not getting it,” said Tedros, temper flaring. “Why can’t you ever trust me? Why can’t you trust us?”
Rafal raised his brows. “And here I am asking the same of my queen. For the first time, I have something in common with an Everboy.”
He grinned at the handsome prince and Tedros looked away.
Silence fell between the two couples. Even the Storian faltered, unsure who was defending who anymore.
“Don’t mind me,” Rafal prodded, smiling. “Who needs a villain when you three have each other?”
“Ignore him, Agatha—” Tedros started.
“If you want me to ‘trust us,’ then tell her, Tedros,” said Agatha quietly. “Tell Sophie I’m your princess forever. Right here. Right now.”
Tedros looked at her, dejected, as if they were talking past each other.
“You can’t do it, can you?” Agatha breathed.
“Agatha, dear, I know we haven’t seen each other in a while,” Sophie jumped in, “but knowing the male species as well as I do, ultimatums only drive them awa—”
“I’d rather have my throat slit than talk to you,” Agatha thrashed.
Sophie shut up.
“Agatha, I love you,” Tedros said, firm and clear. “But all Sophie wants is for me to think twice before we seal our Ever After, just like we’re asking her to do. That’s fair, isn’t it?” He turned to Sophie. “Promise me that if I give you a chance you’ll destroy the ring. Promise me you’ll destroy it as soon as we leave here.”
Sophie waited for Rafal to get angry, to threaten her, but he looked oddly entertained.
She nodded, distracted by Rafal’s smirk. “I promise.”
Rafal snorted.
“See?” Tedros pressed Agatha. “All I have to do is be willing to follow my heart and everything will end happily.”
Agatha could see his frustration, as if she was the problem here, not him. It only rankled her more. “And what about my heart? Tedros, how can you stand there and look me in the eye and—”
She froze, finally feeling the clarity of her prince’s blue stare.
He was lying.
Tedros was lying.
The prince bound to his promises, bound to the truth, was lying for her.
He was telling Sophie only what she wanted to hear. He’d do whatever he had to in order to rescue their best friend from Evil’s clutches and destroy that ring, including pretending to give Sophie a real chance at his heart.
This whole time Tedros had been trying to tell her the stakes were worth it. A ring destroyed. Good heroes spared. Her best friend saved. Her prince still hers . . .
And all Agatha had to do was go along with the lie.
So much for being 100% Good, she thought, resisting tackling and kissing him right there.
“Do you understand the terms?” her prince smiled, seeing the change in her face.
“You’ll give Sophie a chance and follow your heart . . .” Agatha smiled back, her face glowing.
Sophie was beaming now too, glancing between them obliviously.
“. . . straight to Camelot’s future queen,” said Tedros, eyes on Agatha.
Agatha’s smile vanished.
Queen.
That word again. That word that never seemed real.
From the moment they came back to the Woods, she’d put off thoughts of ever making it to Camelot, assuming Tedros and her would break up first or she’d die rescuing Sophie or the Woods would go dark and kill them all. Indeed, the closer they got to finding Sophie again, the more she’d fought with Tedros, as if unconsciously trying to tell them they couldn’t ever get to Camelot.
But here she was, on the cusp of her future as queen of the most famous kingdom ever known. As a queen who the people would judge so closely after Tedros’ mother failed them. As a queen who must restore the legend of her crown.
And nothing standing in the way between her and that crown except one big little lie.
Right then and there, in a moment where Agatha had accused Tedros of doubting their future, only to see he w
as, in fact, rock solid . . . it was she who suddenly had the doubts.
Me. A queen? A real queen?
Tedros saw her face darken and his smile dissipated too, as if he knew she’d stalled before the last hurdle.
“Aggie?” said Sophie’s voice.
Agatha looked up.
“I still feel like his queen,” Sophie said, reading her expression. “Which means something in our story’s still wrong, isn’t it?”
Agatha could see the unswerving belief in Sophie’s face and her gut twisted deeper. Something was wrong. For how could she and Tedros be The End if everything in her heart told her she’d never make a queen to Camelot, while everything in Sophie’s heart told her she would?
Maybe that’s why she and Tedros never sealed their happy ending, Agatha thought. Because something was broken between them. And maybe that something couldn’t be fixed. Because that something was . . . her.
“Mmmm, now it’s getting interesting, isn’t it?” said a chilling voice.
All eyes went to the young School Master, his sensual lips in a twisted grin.
“Evil’s queen, ladies and gentlemen, still vying for Good’s throne,” Rafal said, Excalibur’s blade reflecting him. “But trust her at your peril, because in the end, she’ll end up right back here, my ring on her finger, her heart belonging to me.”
Sophie felt his placid stare and sweat trickled down her side.
“You don’t know what will happen any more than we do, Rafal,” said Agatha, still looking at her best friend.
“You’re trying to talk reason to a murderer?” Tedros blurted.
Agatha’s eyes never left Sophie. “Maybe she’s right, Tedros. Maybe we have to think twice about our happy ending if we’re ever going to find it.”
Sophie looked at Agatha, stunned.
Tedros brightened instantly. “Wait . . . Agatha, you’re saying that you’re okay with Sophie’s terms? That you get what I’m proposing? That—”
“—we question our happy ending, Tedros, just like you said,” spoke Agatha, still looking at Sophie.
“That we all wipe the slate clean,” Sophie said eagerly, looking at Agatha.
“The three of us,” said Agatha. “This time with no secrets, no hiding, no guilt. We go in with eyes wide open and let the truth lead us to The End. That’s the only way we’ll know how each of us can be happy.”
Tedros glanced between them, baffled. “Okay . . . this got a little deep for me . . .” He smiled lovingly at Agatha. “But I knew you’d understand.”
Agatha smiled back at him sadly.
He couldn’t see she meant it for real.
Midnight tolled from distant castles, a deadline come and gone.
Agatha took a full breath, looking at her prince. “To new beginnings.”
Tedros smiled at his princess. “New beginnings.”
They both turned to Sophie.
Sophie smiled at Tedros. “New beginnings.”
The three students’ eyes held for just a moment . . . then all at once moved to Rafal.
The young School Master’s smirk vanished. In a flash, he seized Agatha tighter to the sword, about to slice her throat—
“Now!” Tedros yelled.
Sophie shot Rafal’s hand with a scorching pink spell and he dropped Tedros’ sword in shock. Agatha caught it and rammed the hilt into his gut, sending him reeling into a bookcase, which crashed on top of him along with hundreds of colorful fairy tales. Agatha flipped Excalibur to Tedros, who slid the hilt into the back of his shorts, the flat of the blade against his spine. Instantly he, Sophie, and Agatha sprinted to the window and climbed onto the ledge—
“We need to get to Merlin,” Tedros panted. “Mogrifying is our only chance!”
“The School Master can fly, Tedros! He’ll catch us!” said Agatha, watching Rafal blast through the bookcase with magic. “We need something faster!”
“You came in without a plan to get me out?” Sophie said, the sounds of the bookcase splintering behind them.
“Was pretty sure we’d be dead by now,” puffed Tedros. “What’s faster than mogrifying?”
The bookcase over Rafal flew across the room, shattering against the opposite wall.
“He’s c-c-coming,” Agatha stammered, spinning back to her friends. “We have to leave right no—”
Her eyes bulged. Sweeping from the Woods towards the School Master’s tower was a sooty black cloud, boxy and elongated like a passenger train, and strangely moldy in texture. For a moment, she thought it was smoke from a distant fire, until she saw the familiar twinkles sewn into the cloud, glittering like . . .
“Fairy dust?” Agatha said, agape.
And indeed, now she, Sophie, and Tedros all glimpsed the shadow inside the fairy-dust cloud: a shadow with flowing purple robes and a cone-shaped hat, flying and flapping his arms as he steered towards the window.
“If you don’t come to Merlin, Merlin comes to you,” the wizard trumpeted, bringing the cloud a few feet from the window ledge. “Quickly, children! Tink’s dust won’t last much longer!”
Agatha glanced back and saw Rafal starting to rise. She spun to Sophie and Tedros. “We have to jump into the fairy dust!”
“Jump?” Sophie squeaked, peering off the ledge.
“On three!” said Agatha. “One . . .”
“Two . . . ,” said Tedros.
“Three!” they yelled—
Agatha and Tedros cannonballed into the thick of the cloud and felt a magic lightness buoy them into air, as if they’d lost all mass. As Merlin veered the cloud train towards the school gates, Agatha closed her eyes, abandoning to weightless flight. Tedros, meanwhile, couldn’t stop somersaulting in midair, like an asteroid knocked from its path.
“How do I stop spinning!” Tedros howled.
“Relax your buttocks, dear boy!” Merlin called back.
Swimming through dust, Agatha grabbed on to the prince’s wrist, stopping his orbit. Tedros smiled gratefully . . . then frowned.
“Where’s Sophie?” he asked.
They twirled to see her standing on the windowsill, white as a ghost while the dust train floated away.
“Sophie, what are you doing!” Agatha cried.
“Jump now!” Tedros hollered.
Terrified, Sophie inched closer to the ledge and suddenly felt a clamp on her left hand. She spun to see Rafal holding on to her, calmer than ever.
“You’ll come back to me, Sophie,” he promised. “Leave now and you’ll come back, begging for forgiveness.”
Sophie saw the cold confidence in his pupils, reflecting her scared face. His grip on her hardened, her hand weakening in his . . .
“Sophie, come on!” a boy’s voice called.
She turned and saw the golden, shirtless prince suspended in the sparkle cloud, beckoning her to his side . . . like the first day they ever met . . .
“I’ll never be your queen, Rafal,” Sophie whispered, a pink princess’s song swelling in her heart. She turned to the young School Master. “Because I’ll be someone else’s.”
Her pink fingertip glowed, lighting up TEDROS beneath Rafal’s golden ring. The School Master reddened in surprise, his hand slipping off his queen’s. Like a dove breaking free, Sophie leapt backwards out of his window, beaming radiantly as she floated into the last tail of glitterdust.
Agatha and Tedros swam through twinkling soot and caught Sophie in their arms, the three of them drifting over the bay like flowers in a sandstorm, as Merlin helmed the dust train towards the school gates.
Tedros draped his arms over the two levitating girls. “We’re together,” he marveled. “We’re actually together.”
“And finally on the same side,” said Sophie, hugging him.
Watching Sophie and Tedros as friends for the first time, Agatha smiled tightly, at once relieved and on edge . . . until her face deadened.
“What is it, Aggie?” Sophie asked.
Agatha squinted at the beautiful, white-haired boy in the window,
letting them escape. “He’s not chasing us. Why isn’t he chasing us?”
“Ummm, because everyone else is?” said Tedros.
The two girls spun to see two hundred undead villains exploding out of the School for Old: witches, warlocks, ogres, giants, and trolls roaring and shrieking like banshees and hurtling after the fairy-dust cloud.
“Speed up, Merlin!” Agatha shouted at the wizard, who was turned away at the front of the cloud.
“What, what? Can’t be feeding you now, child,” Merlin bellowed, sucking on a lemon lollipop. “Tink’s dust’s already lasted longer than I expected.”
“Not feed! Speed!” Agatha blared.
But now the dust train sputtered with an ominous hiss and broke apart like a weak mist, sending the three students parachuting on sooty wisps to the shore, barely clearing the corrosive bay. Shell-shocked, they looked up from the ground and saw Merlin flying towards the gates in a piece of cloud, blissfully unaware that he’d lost his passengers.
Horrified, Agatha glanced back and saw the zombie army smashing towards them—
“RUN!” she yelled, bolting up onto bare feet and hot stepping towards the gates.
Sophie and Tedros thundered after her, the three of them waving and screaming at Merlin, trying to get his attention.
“Why can’t he hear us!” Agatha shouted.
“He’s old!” Tedros barked.
Hobbling in her stilettos, Sophie lagged behind, an ogre within arm’s reach, before she slung off a high heel and pelted him in the head, sending him spinning into a three-troll pileup. Flinging her other heel into the pestilent bay, Sophie raced after her friends, who were so far ahead she could hardly see them. “Wait for me! Already the third wheel and we’re still at school!”
Agatha and Tedros scampered side by side for the gates, whose green glow seeped through a patch of pine bushes. But as the gates came into full view, Agatha’s eyes bulged in horror. “They’re sealed, Tedros!”
“’Cause Merlin has Dovey’s wand!” he moaned.
They craned up to see Merlin’s cloud wisp crossing over the towering school gates, about to abscond safely into the Woods. Aghast, Tedros unleashed a two-fingered whistle—